


Linen Sheets and Quiet Words

by KahtyaSofia



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, One Shot, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-24
Updated: 2011-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-19 17:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/KahtyaSofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brad and Nate always seem to say so much with so few words. Why talk? When they can touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Linen Sheets and Quiet Words

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was from this [NSFW image](http://kahtyasofia.dreamwidth.org/238814.html?#cutid1)
> 
> Completely unbeta'd. All error's my own. Although, huge thanks got to cala_jane for her real-time cheerleading via email, from a continent away, as I typed.

Brad awakes slowly; in stages. This is unusual for him. The sun is warm where he can feel it stream in from the open window. The early morning breeze mitigates the growing heat. He takes a deep breath and catches the faint tang of salt and seaweed. His own room then, in his own house.

Shifting his legs slightly, Brad feels the softness of the worn linen sheets. He’s hard, which is typical. The linen feels good on his sensitive erection. He grunts softly and skims his hands down his belly, wrapping his thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock. Brad takes another deep breath and beneath those of the ocean, he catches other scents. Sweat. Masculine sweat. The smells of sweat and sex and … _Nate_.

Brad’s eyes snap open and he glances around the softly lit room. The bedclothes are in disarray. There is no sign of Nate. Brad shifts his legs to the empty side of the bed. The sheet is cold. Nate’s been gone awhile then. He swallows hard and his body tenses as disappointment rolls through him.

His erection begins to wane and then he hears a noise in a distant part of the house. First, there’s the creak of a board in the wood floor. Next, the quiet snap of the refrigerator door closing. Brad sighs in relief and relaxes into the bed. He closes his eyes and skims his hand up his belly and across his chest. He gives himself a mental ass kicking. It doesn’t happen with the frequency it once did, but even after all of these years, he still sometimes expects Nate to do a runner. It doesn’t matter that Nate has _never_ done a runner, something inside of Brad is always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He catches his own nipple between his finger and thumb and twists slightly. He feels an answering surge in his cock as it slowly begins to regain its earlier hardness. Brad plucks at the hardening bud a few times, not enough to hurt, just enough to keep that pulse running through his system and down into his erection.

Brad hears Nate shuffling through the house, keeping quiet out of courtesy. He isn’t silent because it’s more than time for Brad to be awake and functioning. He pictures Nate moving around, wearing nothing more than his boxer briefs, hair still sleep-tousled. The thought makes Brad’s cock grow longer and thicker as it fills with more blood. He takes a deep breath and moves his hand to his other nipple. He tugs at it, stretching and twisting it. There’s a dull ache, low in his belly and it feels good. His erection rises higher, no longer bent over his thigh, but standing nearly straight.

Nate coughs quietly in the other room and Brad is suddenly assailed with a vivid memory of the night before. Nate had taken nearly all of Brad into his mouth. Brad had felt the head of his cock just reach the back of Nate’s throat when it had been too much. Nate had backed off, coughing and choking. He’d smiled at Brad when he’d caught his breath. The sight had made Brad feel gut-punched and he’d flipped Nate over, pinning him to the mattress and fucking him into it.

He opens his eyes and shifts the pillows beneath his head so he’s propped up enough to see his own fully hard cock swathed in white linen. Brad’s tenting the sheet in a manner so obvious it’s obscene. He slides his hand down his own warm, naked skin until he can hold himself at the base, between thumb and forefinger.

The way Brad figures it, he has three choices. He can lay here and jack himself, come into the soft bedclothes and add to the mess they’d made last night. He could slip into the shower and lather his hand with soap for a quick and slick jack. The idea that interests him the most is calling out to Nate, drawing him into the bedroom so he can see the obviousness of Brad’s arousal. After that, it wouldn’t take much to entice Nate back into bed.

The thought of sliding himself deep into Nate’s body makes the pulse in his erection thrum almost painfully. He runs his palm up the length of his cock, feeling the soft scratch of the linen on his sensitized flesh. He gasps. He palms the head, feeling that slightly rough sensation on the tip. He contemplates wrapping his hand around himself and stroking. That would push him too far, too soon. Instead, he prolongs it by skimming his palm back down to the base. He settles his hand there, squeezing himself gently. It’s just enough pressure to help him keep control. It feels so fucking good.

Brad’s startled when Nate walks into the room; quiet and unexpected. He’s not doing anything wrong, so he doesn’t move his hand. Instead, he spreads his thighs a little wider and meets Nate’s eyes. It was thinking about Nate that got him this hard, had him touching himself. Let Nate see the truth of that in Brad’s eyes.

Nate’s expression isn’t what Brad expected. At first he looks surprised. Nate quickly schools his features and swallows hard. Because Brad has spent so many years studying Nate, trying to learn every nuance of his personality, he sees the hesitance and the disappointment.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. Just let me get my clothes and I’ll let you get back to it,” he says softly, gesturing toward the set of drawers that hold his clothing.

That isn’t the response Brad had anticipated. It’s certainly not the one he wants.

“It got this way thinking about you,” he says, his voice rough from disuse. “I was just about to tell you to get your ass in here and help with this.”

Nate’s expression softens and a corner of his mouth quirks upward in a brief smile. Something Brad didn’t know was knotted in his gut loosens.

“You want my help?” Nate takes a couple of careful steps toward the bed. “You looked like you were doing fine on your own.”

Brad grips himself tight. He strokes upward, dragging the sheet along his rigid length. The sensation has him gasping, his back arching off the bed. Nate’s eyes widen, his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. Brad watches his mouth fall open slightly. That mouth has given Brad more jack-off fantasies than he can count. Fuck the fantasies. He wants the real thing.

“I was just making do,” he replies on a sigh, spreading his thighs even wider. “Definitely not an optimal set of circumstances under which to be operating.”

Nate takes several slow steps until he’s standing beside the bed. “No? And you believe I can be of assistance with logistics?”

“You’ve always been the perfect solution in the past.”

This time, Nate’s smile is wider, more genuine. Slowly, he puts one knee on the bed. He places a hand on the pillow next to Brad’s head. He kneels fully next to Brad’s hip and places his other hand on the pillow so that Brad is caged by Nate’s arms. Brad watches Nate’s mouth all the way until it presses to his own. Brad closes his eyes and enjoys the firm pressure of Nate’s lips against his own. They’re warm and soft, moving gently on his. Neither of them deepens the kiss.

Brad wraps his arms around Nate’s torso and pulls him down until they’re flush. He places a foot flat on the mattress and presses, deftly turning them so that Nate is now against the pillows with Brad hovering above. He feels Nate’s arms around his shoulders and a hand comes to rest on the back of his head. Nate’s hand slides gently down along Brad’s neck until it rests against his jaw, cradling his face.

He kisses Nate, slow and deep, just like he likes. In between the wet sounds of their tongues sliding against each, and the soft smacking of their parting lips, are the constant sounds of their moans. Brad feels each one of Nate’s vibrate straight through him. He could do this for hours; lose himself in the simple act of kissing Nate.

Brad pulls back slightly, sliding the fingers of one hand through Nate’s already tousled hair. He keeps one arm wrapped around Nate so they stay touching along the lengths of their bodies.

“What was that earlier?” he asks in a whisper, holding Nate’s gaze.

“What?” Nate murmurs, confusion obvious despite the desire burning in his eyes.

“Leaving me to it?” Brad whispers, striving to keep things light but not daring to mock.

Nate glances away briefly. The subtle shift of his features startles Brad. There’s no humor there.

“Whatever you’d been fantasizing about gave you a raging hard-on,” Nate replies. At least he’s meeting Brad’s eyes again.

Brad’s chest aches at Nate’s words. “I got hard remembering last night,” he says, letting Nate see the truth in his eyes.

Nate smiles and the ache in Brad’s chest eases, even as he finds he can no longer breathe.

“It _was_ pretty fucking spectacular,” Nate says with a chuckle.

Brad shifts to his knees and slips between Nate’s thighs. He tugs Nate’s boxer-briefs over his hips and slides them off his legs. He settles himself so their cocks are aligned and pressed between their bellies. He reaches his arms beneath Nate’s body so he can hold him close.

“Why?” Brad whispers, just before he lowers his head to mouth his way along Nate’s jaw.

Nate’s moans and arches up into Brad, his hands moving restlessly along Brad’s arms.

Brad knows a distraction when he’s faced with one. “Nate?” he whispers against the shell of Nate’s ear just before he runs his tongue along the ridges and sucks on his lobe.

“I’m an upper-middle class kid raised in the suburbs,” Nate says, his voice low and laced with frustration. “The women have all been girlfriends and the men have all been philosophical discussions that led to physical experimentation.” His sigh is deep and weary; his gaze is frank and apprehensive.

Brad has many words at his disposal and he’s got good effect on target when he utilizes them. Realizing that Nate fears Brad could grow bored with him, that he’s not enough for Brad, renders him inarticulate.

He kisses Nate, fusing their lips and rubbing his tongue against Nate’s until he’s out of breath. Nate’s own breathing is loud and harsh against Brad’s cheek. He pulls back and wills Nate to look at him. Brad cups Nate’s cheek with one hand, skimming his thumb over the sharp cheekbone.

“I have complete faith,” he whispers.

Nate presses his mouth into a thin line, his green eyes fill with emotions Brad feels echo inside of himself. He glances away briefly and when his gaze returns to Brad’s, there is peace. His expression softens and Brad’s body is suffused with a familiar heat.

Brad smiles at the feel of Nate’s hands sliding down his back to grasp his ass. Nate moves against him, pressing their hips together. It’s Brad’s turn to be kissed by Nate. It’s a hard kiss and Nate is never stingy with his tongue. Brad flexes his hips, pushing against Nate’s and matching the slow rhythm he’s setting.

He hears the drawer of the bedside table open and Nate rummage inside. Easily, he finds what he’s looking for; they use it frequently and it’s always there on top. Brad lifts himself from Nate’s body slightly. He watches in avid fascination as Nate thumbs open the bottle of lube and upends it over their cocks. It’s cold but it feels good in the warmth of the early morning.

They’re both already sweating.

Nate coats them both with slick, sliding his hand, first over Brad’s cock, then over his own. Brad watches Nate’s long, elegant fingers wrap around their cocks in turn. He hisses and moans when Nate touches him, wrapping those slender fingers around the base of his erection and sliding upward quickly with a tight grip. He watches Nate do the same to himself, feels Nate’s hips flex under him and his entire body quiver.

Soon, they’re both glistening with lube. It shines brightly in the sunlight, covering their cocks and their ball sacs, spilling onto Brad’s thighs and Nate’s belly.

Brad feels Nate’s hands on his ass, gripping tight and tugging him closer. He lowers himself and feels Nate’s heat radiating from his skin and suffusing Brad’s. He kisses his way down Nate’s stubble-rough chin and along his throat.

Nate mouths his way along Brad’s cheek until he can press their mouths together. “Fuck me,” he whispers harshly against Brad’s lips. “Please, fuck me.”

Brad sits up, his eyes searching Nate’s. His heart hammers in his chest, sending more blood thundering into his cock and making it bounce heavily between his thighs. He runs his palms over Nate’s chest, feeling the smooth, slick skin. He spans Nate’s ribcage with his hands and holds him pressed to the bed. “Do you want to?” he asks, voice rough and sounding breathless. “Is that what you really want?”

Nate nods once, briskly. Brad knows, like he always knows, that Nate means it.

Brad holds himself over Nate’s supine body, while Nate reaches between them and aligns Brad’s straining erection with his opening. Nate’s fingers are sure and steady on Brad’s cock and it feels fucking fantastic; just like it always does, when Nate touches him.

He pushes in. Nate is still loose and slick from the night before. Brad slides in all the way, his hips slapping loudly against Nate’s ass. Beneath him, Nate arches off the bed. He throws his head back, neck arching and his eyes squeezing shut. Nate’s mouth falls open as he cries out loudly, completely unselfconscious. That never stops being amazing to Brad.

He lowers himself over Nate, resting on his elbows and burying both hands in Nate’s hair. Brad fucks Nate hard. The muscles in his back, hips and thighs burn with the effort, as he pulls himself out of Nate’s heat and slams right back in. He lingers with his face just above Nate’s, drinking in the sight of his flushed and sweaty features.

“You feel so fucking good,” Brad whispers, not caring if Nate can even hear him as loud as he’s shouting with each of Brad’s thrusts. “You’re so hot and tight around me. Love your sweet ass. Love to fuck you. Does it feel good? Are you with me?” Nate’s cries grow louder, more strident. Brad repeats his last question loud enough to elicit and answer. “Are you with me, Nate?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” Nate gasps.

Nate’s hands are suddenly everywhere on Brad. He feels them on his back and his arms. One of Nate’s palms presses against his hip, the other his thigh. Brad fears he’s hurting Nate. He’s about to slow his movements when he realizes Nate isn’t pushing him away. Brad feels cherished beneath Nate’s touch. There’s no indication he’s hurting Nate with the power of his thrusts.

Brad’s heart fills to bursting. No fantasy he’s ever conjured is better than the reality of Nate. He’s so fucking strong, Brad never has to hold back.

He rises back up, pressing a hand to the bed on either side of Nate’s head. Sweat rolls down the length of his spine, he feels it slide down from his hairline and tickle the back of his neck. Nate’s skin is just as slick with sweat, his thighs sliding over Brad’s hips.

He’s surprised when Nate props himself on one elbow. His face is mere inches from Brad’s. Nate wraps his other hand around the back of Brad’s neck. He feels himself held steady by that hand. Nate has always held Brad steady with nothing more than a look or a touch. Brad breathes heavily against Nate’s lips and feels Nate’s scorching breath flow over and into him. He can’t hold Nate’s gaze any longer, it’s so intense it’s frightening. Brad glances down at Nate’s swollen mouth. He takes in Nate’s firm chest and taut belly before finally returning to his eyes.

All this time and he still doesn’t understand. A part of him still doesn’t believe.

“I’m a juvenile delinquent who got tossed into military school,” he says into Nate’s mouth. His broken words are due to exertion and nothing more. “In my entire adult life, I’ve only ever done one thing. Why the fuck haven’t you left?”

Nate’s expression is incredulous; it wars with confusion before his eyes soften and he smiles up at Brad. In that moment Brad realizes that what he sees in Nate’s eyes, is precisely what Nate sees in his during unguarded moments. Brad is so overwhelmed his chest tightens painfully and he struggles to breathe.

Nate has mercy on him. He looks away, down between their bodies. “That’s so fuckin’ hot,” he says, low and gravelly.

Brad follows Nate’s gaze and catches sight of his own hard cock sliding in and out of Nate’s body. Nate’s right; it is so very fucking hot. Brad’s cock is long and thick, flushed a deep red in color. It glistens wetly with lube each time he pulls back out of Nate’s hole. He slams his hips forward and his cock sinks into Nate’s body, disappearing completely. Brad pulls back again and sees Nate’s asshole stretched wide around him, the rim shines with a coating of slick.

He thrusts again and their bodies meet with a loud slap. They both grunt and gasp without pause and it’s loud in the quiet of the early morning. Brad watches Nate’s body rock against him, his hard cock and his ball sac move obscenely, still heavily coated with lube. He sees Nate’s long and sexy fingers wrap around his dick and start to stroke. His hand is a blur as he jacks himself. Brad glances up. Nate’s gaze darts from Brad’s face to his own hand, and back again.

Brad watches Nate fist himself. He’s fascinated by the blood-red head of Nate’s prick disappearing into his hand and reappearing an instant later. Brad groans and feels the back of his throat burn. Nate’s chest heaves, each breath harsh and labored.

“I’m gonna come,” Nate gasps.

“Fuck yeah,” Brad rasps. “Make yourself come. I wanna watch you come on yourself.”

Nate’s breathing is ragged and his body clenches around Brad’s cock. He tenses, not moving save for his rapidly stroking fist.

“Oh shit,” he shouts as his entire frame shudders violently, rocking the bed and Brad along with it. “Oh shit, I’m coming.”

“Fuck yeah,” Brad says soothingly. “Let me see you come on your belly. Yeah, that’s it. Come for me.”

As Brad watches, pearlescent jizz splatters Nate’s chest and belly. It decorates his sweaty skin, pooling in the sharp cut of his abs and slipping down his sides into the bedding. It’s a sight Brad never tires of seeing.

Nate collapses onto the bed and Brad presses down into him. He kisses Nate deeply, sucking and licking at his tongue. His heart hammers in his chest. He has no words for how he feels. All he can do is show Nate; put it all into his kiss and hope that Nate understands this time, like he has all the other times.

Brad cradles Nate’s flushed face between his palms. His cock is still buried deep in Nate’s ass and his balls ache with the need to come. He just can’t wait any fucking longer. Brad slides his arms beneath Nate’s body and holds him close. He buries his face in Nate’s neck and his head spins with the scents that mingle there and overwhelm his senses.

He feels Nate’s hands span his ribcage, his thighs slide over Brad’s hips and ass. They’re both too drenched in sweat for Nate’s skin to find purchase on Brad’s. He doesn’t care. He loves the feel of Nate moving against him.

Brad fucks himself into Nate’s body. His rhythm is shit and his control is already shot to hell. Electric jolts rocket through his system, shooting down the length of his spine and ricocheting through his pelvis. It builds at the base of his spine and rolls through him, settling in his balls as they rise up toward his body.

“Fuck, Nate,” he whispers against the moist skin of Nate’s throat.

Brad feels Nate’s fingers tighten against his ribs; his legs wrap around Brad’s waist and lock tight.

“Fucking come inside me, Brad,” Nate demands. “Fuck my ass and come inside me.”

Brad roars his release against the roughness of Nate’s jaw. He squeezes his eyes shut, barely aware of the vibrant fireworks playing across the backs of his eyelids. His chest heaves with each gasping breath. Brad is helpless as his cock twitches inside of Nate’s ass, his balls emptying every last ounce of his come.

“Oh fuck,” he groans as the last shudder wracks his body. He’s only just able to keep himself from collapsing on top of Nate.

Brad flops limply onto his back. He and Nate are both out of breath. They gasp loudly as they struggle to recover. Brad shifts his legs until the soft linen sheet is within his reach. He tugs it upward and uses it to clean Nate’s chest and belly of rapidly drying come. He swipes at his own body, where Nate’s jizz has transferred to his skin, and lets the sheet fall to the floor. Brad hisses at the feel of Nate’s fingers on his softening cock as they deftly remove the condom and tie it off. He has no idea where it lands when Nate tosses it away.

Taking a deep breath, Brad relaxes into the bed. He closes his eyes and concentrates the heat of Nate’s body radiating against his own skin. They’re barely touching but it’s enough. A languorous feeling settles over Brad and he feels himself begin to drift toward sleep.

“Fuck. I just woke up and I already need a nap,” he says, not bothering to open his eyes. “I had things I wanted to do this morning.”

“Are you actually going to lay there and bitch about what was quite a spectacular fuck?” Nate’s voice is laced with humor.

Brad opens his eyes and turns his head on the pillow, looking directly into Nate’s eyes. “It’s spectacular every time we fuck,” he says simply, knowing Nate will understand everything he _doesn’t_ say.

Nate grins. “Take your fucking nap,” he says around a yawn. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Brad drifts into sleep. Although Nate didn’t say it, Brad knows he’ll always be there when Brad wakes up again.

  


End file.
